


Questions

by MissEO16



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEO16/pseuds/MissEO16
Summary: Two strangers form an unusual bond over spilled coffee.





	Questions

**Author's Note:**

> (Please excuse the script-like format. Wrote this on my phone. Will make format changes if requested.) This is a rough draft/pilot chapter of an alternate universe in The Walking Dead television series. Please leave kudos and, if at all possible, any criticism - the good and the bad - in the comment section. I'm really open to suggestions. Please enjoy. Happy reading!

He looks at me.   
I look back, mustering a steady expression, trying not to be the first to break the gaze. I try, for what seems like minutes, to appear unnerved by his diamond stare.   
"What?" I say. I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm talking to an officer.   
He looks away, with a blush on his face. Thankfully.   
"I'm sorry. So sorry." He clears his throat.   
"I have a bit of a staring issue."   
"So, you spill coffee all over her jacket & brush it off as a bit of a staring issue? You're gonna have to do better than that, Rick!" His buddy shoves him on the shoulder.   
"Shane." He whispers through the subtle smile on his face.   
"Hey! Just trynna help. Sorry 'bout that, miss. I'll go and fetch you something. Rick, you owe me. Today, I'll be out in the car looking after the station. You can man the store.", his buddy says with a mouthful of donut as he jogs to the patrol car.   
"Miss, I'm incredibly sorry."   
"Yeah. You're fine. It's cool."   
I take a seat on the sidewalk. The officer hesitates a moment before going off to throw away his cup.   
"You don't have to throw that away on account of me."   
"I wouldn't have had much to drink anyways. I spilled what was left of it all over your jacket." He sits down next to me on the sidewalk. For a moment, we sit in awkward silence.   
"So," I start. "Ri-"   
"I'm Sheriff Grimes. Richard Grimes. You can call me Rick."   
He calmly extends his hand.   
"I would say it was nice to meet you, but this was a most unfortunate circumstance. I don't believe that statement would do this situation much justice."   
I'm a bit caught off guard by his polite interruption. I hesitate a second before extending my hand to greet him. I notice he has on a wedding ring.   
"Shaking with your left hand. You left-handed?"   
"Oh. No, ma'am. Right-handed. Nothing special about me. Erh-ehm." He clears his throat. "I'm as average as they come." He puts his head down.   
"Except for your newly discovered talent for clumsiness." I joke .   
He smiles, putting his head down again, and rubs at the nape of his neck with his left hand as if my comment had burned it.   
"My name is Doña. Doña Eliassaint."   
"Donna?!" he says, quickly lifting up his head to make eye contact with me. His eyes are frantically searching. Searching for what?   
"DOÑA."   
I say a little louder. "With a tilde over the 'n'."   
"A 'tilde'?"   
"You know how to say 'lasagna'?"   
"Yeah?", he asks confused.   
"Say it." I boldly tell him. What's gotten into me?   
For a while, he stares. A moment goes by without him saying a word. I stare right back at him & smile.   
"Lasagna." I say.   
"Lasagna." he absently repeats, returning the smile.   
"Now say my name." I must be crazy giving demands to a Sheriff.   
"My name." he repeats.   
I laugh.   
"Huh. What? Doña. Like Donna if I were to rhyme it with the ending in lasagna?" he regains his composure, blushing and grinning, as I continue laughing.   
He surrenders and laughs, too. "I'm terrible. I'm so sorry."   
For a second we sit there laughing, which slowly subsides into light giggles.   
"Oh, man. You're hilarious! And you're probably not even trying to be. You know what, I already forgave you for spilling that coffee on me, but you deserve a round of applause for this. Haha!"   
"Ha! Well, two quick beats and a cymbal maybe!"   
Our giggling marathon subsides.   
"Nice to meet you, Officer Grimes."   
"Likewise."   
He takes off his sheriff's hat and runs his fingers through a thing of short and wavy brunette locks, slicking his hair back.   
"Real pleasure meeting you, Mrs.-?" He extends his hand.   
"Miss. Miss Eliassaint. I haven't got any common Italian foods that'll help you pronounce that. Haha!" I finally decide to reciprocate his gesture and shake his hand - longer than I probably need to. His grip is firm.   
"No worries. I think I can manage. Miss Eliassaint. Hm."   
he suddenly raises his hand to lightly scratch his cheek - mouth slightly ajar.   
"Doña Eliassaint? Hm. Is that French?" he asks.   
"Yes. Partly. The first name is Spanish."   
"Spanish and French? Interesting. Do you speak those languages?"   
"Decent Spanish. French - not really. My parents were immigrants - from Haiti. They speak Creole. That explains my name. I was born & raised in Indianapolis. There weren't many speakers around. My parents were always too busy working to speak with me much. And so, I never learned."   
"Wow. Sorry to hear that." he says, "If you don't mind me askin', you said 'were'. Does that mean -", he hesitates.   
I turn so that I'm looking him in the eyes and our knees nearly touch.   
"My mother. Yes. My father. No. He's still around."   
"I'm so sorry to hear that, ma'am. I can only imagine."   
"Yeah." I bite my lip. "She passed in her sleep a few years ago. She was living with me and we had just come back from a trip to Port-au-Prince."   
I stop myself before continuing. I feel a lump in my throat.   
"I apologize. I didn't mean to bring up something so awful."   
"No." I reach out to place a hand on his knee. Perhaps to keep him from running. "She went to bed so happy that night."   
He covers my hand with his own.   
I feel the heat warming my cheeks and my vision becoming blurred.   
We sit in silence looking at the ground.   
"It's good to cry." I manage to whisper. I let a tear escape and watch as it falls onto the concrete. Then another.   
After years of being "fine", Sheriff Grimes spills coffee on my jacket and manages to get me to cry.   
"You're special." I look up, wiping the tears away with my free hand. He looks back up at me - eyes squinting for clarity.   
"There's not many people I've met who'd sit down and hold hands with a crying stranger."   
He smiles. "That's my job.", he lightly grips my hand.   
"Yeah." I say, returning the smile.   
"What an unusual circumstance." I manage a giggle. He gently rubs his thumb over my fingers in response. I stare at my hand planted firmly between his knee and hand. I feel the rough cotton of the ironed line on his pant leg between my fingers, the heat from his hand blanketing the chill of my own. For a moment, I feel safe. From what? I'm not sure.   
"Where were you headed after here?" he says after a moment.   
I snap back into reality.   
"I'd be happy to take you where you want to go. I'll take you in the patrol car when Officer Walsh returns with your jacket."   
"Yeah. I was actually just headed a couple of blocks from here. I'm staying at the Downtown Marriott."   
"Oh. You're visiting?"   
"Yeah. I'm here for a convention."   
"Oh, the dancing one?"   
"Yeah. Dance-Con. I left my room this morning to go out and explore Atlanta a bit and to warm up my feet."   
"So, you'll be dancing?"   
"Yeah. Me and a group of about 20 other dancers. We're a club. Started it up out of college."   
"Man. A dancer, huh? That's great. I wish I'd been more gifted in that sense. My wife says I've got two left feet." as he says it, I pull my hand away from the comfort of his grip and the Woop! Woop! of the police car snaps me back into reality. We look up to see that Officer Walsh has returned.   
If I was going to pull my hand away, that was a convenient time to do it. I grow weary of getting too comfortable with a stranger - let alone a married one.   
Officer Walsh steps out of the vehicle and dives back in to grab a brown jacket. He jogs up to us as Sheriff Grimes stands up and helps me to my feet.   
"Hopefully this fits." he hands me the heavy jacket with the soft white collar and light brown fabric.   
"Shane? Is that my jacket?"   
"Enh. Most likely."   
I look up from admiring the jacket to Sheriff Grimes.   
"Oh, no. I don't want to take your- "   
"No. No. Keep it. I want you to have it." He takes the jacket and opens it up. For a moment, I hesitate. He nods, encouraging the offer.   
I take off my old coffee soiled & discounted Burlington faux-leather brown jacket and Officer Walsh graciously takes it from me. "Thanks."   
"I'll go off and dry clean this ASAP.", he jogs off again.   
I turn around. I put my right arm through the right sleeve and then my left arm through the left sleeve.   
Sheriff Grimes adjusts the jacket to sit snuggly on my shoulders. It's quite warm and spacious and smells of jasmine and an unidentifiable masculine scent. I notice his hands still linger on my shoulders.   
"You all right?" he asks.   
I turn my head a bit.   
"Don't tell me you miss this jacket already. I was just getting acquainted. Haha!" I joke trying to ease the unspoken tension.   
"No. I know it's in good hands." He squeezes my shoulders. I turn to face him.   
"So much for driving you back to your hotel. I'd be happy to walk you there, but I'm kind of on duty." And kind of married, I should add.   
"Well, your partner seems to be breaking the rules."   
"Protect and serve. He serves. I protect. Haha!"   
I smile. We both look down. Sheriff Grimes shuffles an invisible object with his feet.   
"What time is it?" suddenly remembering I had somewhere to be.   
"6:44 a.m. When does it start again?" He looks up and out into the distance - still shuffling the invisiball.   
"Oh. Not until 11:00 a.m. The actual competition doesn't start 'til 7:00 p.m. I need to take a nap is all - before rehearsals and what-not."   
"A nap." He repeats absently, lightly scratching his right cheek, still staring out into the distance.   
"Well," I start. "I guess -"   
"Could I . . ." he stops shuffling his invisiball and looks me back at me - returning to Earth.   
For some time he just looks at me. I watch his eyes break contact with mine, to examine my hair and then my lips.   
"Could you . . . ?" I inquire - an attempt at stopping his wandering gaze.   
It works.   
"I apologize." He closes his eyes.   
"Man, I'm on a roll today."   
"One more strike and you're out, motherfucker." I'm getting way too comfortable. He shifts his stance, hanging his head down and puts his hands on his hips. I went too far. We stand there for a moment.   
He brings his head back up to reveal his still closed eyes, a red face . . . . and a smile.   
He's embarrassed.   
He shakes his head, as if to rid it of all the nonsense and wipes his face with both palms.   
I can't help but stand there smiling. I just embarassed a sheriff.   
"Wow. Wow, wow, wow."   
"Wow-wow. You alright, Sheriff?" I grin.   
"You're gonna have to excuse me, Miss. I'm runnin' on less than four hours of sleep here. Shane thought maybe some coffee might help, but that mission kind of all went to shit when I spilled it all over you. Not that meeting you is a shit thing if I may add." He clears his throat. I can't help but grin. He chuckles nervously.   
"What I was tryin' to ask was . . .", he hesitates, gesturing to nothing in particular with his hand.   
"Yep?" I inquire.   
He rubs the back of his neck.   
"How long have you been in town?"   
"Huh?" I ask.   
"What I mean is, have you gotten a chance to explore Atlanta?"   
"You mean outside of this gas station? I haven't gotten too far, unfortunately. We landed yesterday afternoon. I spent the rest of the day unpacking and sleeping."   
"How much longer do ya'll plan to be in town? You know . . . so I know if I- if we have time to give you back your jacket."   
"We leave Tuesday afternoon, so, today's Friday . . . " I do the math in my head.   
"Three days." He interrupts me - catching me off guard.   
"Give or take." He nods.   
"Yeah." I say.   
He rubs the back of his neck again, clearing his throat.   
"Hopefully, I'll-"   
"Attention! All officers report to police headquarters immmediately. I repeat, all on duty officers, report to police headquarters immediately. This is an EMERGENCY!"   
I look to Sheriff Grimes as he looks at me. His forehead wrinkles and his eyebrows turn downward.   
"I apologize. This sounds pretty urgent."   
He pulls the walkie from his shoulder closer to his mouth.   
"Shane?! You get that?!"   
A moment passes. Sheriff Grimes looks at me.   
"Sha-"   
"Got ya, Rick. I'm on my way."   
"10-4."   
Sheriff Grimes look around squinting.   
"Should be here in a moment. Hopefully it's nothin' too serious."   
"I suppose I should be heading back now." I really don't want to cut our conversation short.   
"I hate to let you walk back by yourself. But I kinda have to be somewhere."   
I nod my head.   
"Well . . . I guess I'll be seeing you?"   
He nods his head.   
"Yeah . . . I'll- we'll be seein' ya."   
I look to the ground. I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up. "You stay safe . . . Doña." He nearly whispers.   
I lay my hand on top of his - gripping it.   
"You do the same, Sheriff."   
"Call me Rick."   
I nod.   
"Rick."   
For another moment we stand.   
Woop-Woop!   
The police car pulls up with red and blue lights flashing.   
"Hop in, Sheriff!"


End file.
